January 16, 2009
GRIEF
How does grief find me?
A visitor camping at my door.
She pitches a tent, rolls out a bag
waits for many days more.
At first I do not hear
the soft tap, tapping.
I‘m busy and the guest
continues
she continues softly to rap.
I do not sense, I’m unaware –
as the first dark days go by –
I know the guest is calling
but I do not cry.
I am not feeling well now
my body twists and cries.
I think I hear the door now,
what is on the other side?
Grief finally tires of waiting
disguised as a really bad day.
My guard cannot match – she enters and
I, disarmed cannot delay.
My friends lost a daughter –
we all have daughters
we openly and deeply grieve.
Together we drink down the bitter
None will turn, no one will leave.
Tonight I cannot turn grief away
necessary as tornados
certain as the birth of lambs.
Tonight I sit with her and I pray.
Cheryl Renee Long
Wow! I am blown away! That is fabulous, and I hope you are sending Rose a giclee!
But I am not the author, if you will note: Nancy Rose Meeker and Angela Cecil are the authors.
I love this as a companion piece to Blue Ronel Running, and I definitely want to put my order in for a giclee, too!
And thanks for all your fun and fine comments! Don’t forget Ruby Heart!
These are easy forms you can try: the “My Life as a Spiritual Journey Poem,” the “I Remember” poem, the “If I were a mountain/song/heroine of a film, etc. Poem.”